An appeal to the Supreme Court of the United States was taken, which dragged its weary way for a number of years, but resulted in confirming the decision of the lower court. Mrs. Mason was for many years, through the patronage and kindness of Senator Garland and other members of Congress from Arkansas, a clerk in the Land Office at Washington. I found Mrs. Mason living in well-appointed apartments with her daughter, an artistic painter of some note, with studio adjoining, where I was shown many beautiful productions of her brush. I was conversant with many instances in the North where Southern planters had brought their colored families to be educated, purchasing and giving them property for settlement and sustenance, especially that their girls might escape the environments which undoubtedly awaited them at the South. These were in fine and valuable contradistinction to many cases similarly related, where they were sold on the auction block to the highest bidder. But in all candor it cannot but be supposed that in many instances the sale of the planter's own flesh and blood was involuntary. High living, neglect of the comparative relation of resource and expenditure, gambling for big stakes on steamboat and at Northern watering places, brought the evil day with attending results to the "chattel" subject to the baneful caprice of unrestrained liberty. On the 23d of January, 1898, I was taking my leave of Paris to meet my steamer at Marseilles for a 20-day voyage for Madagascar. My stay at the hotel had been pleasant, and I supposed had received all necessary attention from the servants that occasion demanded; but in character it had been individual. Now it was united, for in doorway and on staircase they were (like Tennyson's cannon) servants "to the right of me and servants to the left of me," smiling and gracious. One, of whom I had no recollection of having previously seen, approached me with an obeisance decidedly French to remind me that he was the "baggage man" and attended to it when I arrived. I replied, "You are not the man who took up my baggage." "No," he said; "I am the man who looked after the man who watched the man who did take it up." "Oh!" I said; and then remembering that he and I had much in common, his English and my French being twins, I conceded his claim, "tipped" others that impeded my exit, and made hasty retreat.